The Finding

By Reeyce Smythe Wilder

Brenna's bargain to deliver a Sight of a specific event in the future to a powerful Jarl in return for her freedom has turned into a game of deception and pain. Her many attempts at escape have been thwarted time and time again. This time she makes it - only to come face to face with a Skinwalker who not only swears to protect her but stirs in her heart emotions she thought long dead and buried.
Rhys has always stood by his leader, risking his life too many times to count and earning the trust, admiration and respect of the horde and the men under his command. So when an ally werewolf clan from the north extended an invitation to Graeme to join in the celebration of the birth of their prince, Rhys was sent in his stead. The plan had been simple enough - congratulate the happy horde, eat, drink, bed as many wenches as possible and come home. Until Fate intervened and brought him the one thing he never knew he desired more than life itself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Reeyce Smythe Wilder
• Release date: Jun 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463919835

Reeyce Smythe Wilder

Writer, Sales Executive, mother of three and wife.

Book preview

The Finding

By

Reeyce Smythe Wilder

Copyright 2020 by Mellissa Lopez St. Louis

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Author’s Note

Although this novel can be read as a stand alone, I highly recommend reading The Sanction first, as it will shed some light on a few of the references used here, and provide a backdrop for the story. The Sanction is available as a free read. Enjoy!

The Finding

Chapter One

The ruckus of vicious barks could not drown out the heavy breaths that hung like corpses in the cold night. In the darkness behind, she could make out the flash of torches between the trees. Adrenaline pumped hotly through her veins, and in a panic-induced state, she did not see the drop ahead. Black earth and broken branches met her chest. Hot breath rushed out of her upon impact. By the goddess, there was pain. Still, she ran. Voices, loud and determined, echoed in a cacophony, a distorted hum that stoked terror within her.

Pausing to catch her breath, she hissed the moment she pressed a hand to the oozing wound on her shoulder. Blood, black in the moonlight, carried with it the scent of burnt flesh. Sweat trickled down her pinched face, dirty and bruised. The need to survive forced her feet to move. She saw the river, heard the rush of the rapids and paused long enough to glance over her shoulder. The dog was swift on its feet, its' attack a blur in her peripheral vision. It made contact with her arm the same instant she flung her body into the rapids, but still, she felt agony from the canine teeth that were lodged into her forearm. The shock of the cold water near paralyzed her.

The force of the water took her under, and when she resurfaced, there was nothing but the flashing lights within the line of trees on the river bank several yards behind and rapidly spreading numbness. Limbs becoming hopelessly heavy, she sputtered, sucking in air hungrily before being taken under again. A loud pop echoed in her ear before everything turned black.

***

There was nothing Rhys enjoyed more than a mug of ale, a woman on his lap, and a good night’s rest after the long journey that had brought him to the door of the clan leader, Bjorn. It had been many months since the war with the vampires, and in the weeks that followed, life took on a certain monotony he more than welcomed. There was plenty to eat, plenty to drink and the men continued to work hard at their training. With the acceptance of the new vampire mistress, they did their best in the hopes that when the time came, their leader Graeme would appoint the best as her guard. Rhys, of course, was charged with the selection. It was a daunting task. Although the men found it an honour to protect their leader’s vampire mate, it would not do to have them overstep their bounds with her. Graeme, he realized, had become more possessive, that too when he discovered that she was pregnant yet again. It was a task to keep her safe, especially since she was not the kind of woman to adhere to the words of a man, leader or not. Still, he would give his life for hers, so when Bjorn sent the invitation to celebrate the birth of his son, Graeme announced that Rhys was to go in his place. He was not pleased with the fact. Upon his arrival at this cold northland, Bjorn personally met him on the shore where he was taken from the ship. His two-week stay had lengthened to three, and when he insisted on returning to Scotland, he was invited to linger for one more week. Rhys wanted desperately to decline the invitation, but to do so would have been nothing short of an insult, so he accepted dutifully and was well received.

He sat now with a full belly and a large woman on his lap, her generous breasts all but bare to his face and her seeking hands delving beneath his tunic and making his blood boil. There was no coyness about these north-women, a fact he liked immensely. Still, no matter how much he wanted to enjoy the warmth of her lushness, his bladder was close to bursting. He patted her hip and offered a smile, accepted her deep, greedy kiss, and sent her on her way with a promise to return.

He stood, toasted Bjorn whose thunderous laughter drowned out any other, and all but stumbled through the throng of boisterous warriors toward the heavy doors. The wind was frigid as he made his way to the river whose depths berth the several dozen longboats he had baulked to brave upon the crossing. He relieved himself, his body was now languid and relaxed as he absently listened to the lash of the gentle waves upon wood – and frowned when his wandering gaze spotted a figure that looked like a body several yards away, floating in the water. His senses sharpened instantly, and before thought could have stayed him, he dived into the black depths. With powerful strokes, he advanced and was only aware of the sense of dread that filled him when he realized that it was a woman. It took only a moment to wade back to shore, and even less time to turn her onto her side. Her heartbeat was strong and the breaths she took were deep and sure. She would live, there was no doubt.

Her eyes flew open quite suddenly, and Rhys felt a blow as powerful as any man’s knock him onto his back the moment she lifted her hands in defence. She struggled to her feet, eyes wild and frightened, muttering words he could not understand. Just as quickly as her attack began it ended, for she fainted.

Rhys got to his feet in slow degrees, trying to fully understand what the hell just happened and failing miserably. Maybe he was more intoxicated than he’d first realized. He advanced with much caution and ever so slowly moved the lash of hair from her face. Her skin was like the cream of milk, so white he could not mistake the harsh cuts and bruises upon her cheek. As the wind lifted, the scent of wildflowers greeted him, thick and heavy, and for a moment he rocked back and sniffed, trying to dislodge the scent there. It wafted over him again, coming from her with the force of a storm. It was, in a word, divine. For a moment he did nothing but sit on his haunches and stare at her in utter awe. It dawned on him slowly, so much so that even he tried to justify it, to excuse his rash behaviour and assumptions for what it was.

Graeme was mated. It would only be wise to assume that subconsciously he craved a mate as well. And why shouldn’t he? He was quite older than Graeme, had seen more than his share of violence and loss. Of course, he would want someone to finally share his life with. That was the only reason he would view this woman, this stranger as a mate. That had to explain the surge of protectiveness that clutched his chest when the doors to the keep opened and the noise from within seeped into the night. She was wet and cold, and how she ended up in the river was something he would have liked to know as well. Struggling between hope that at long last he has found his missing half and the doubt that reared its ugly head, he lifted her almost weightless form and clutched her close, making quick work of the distance to the great hall. Bjorn met his eyes and his smile fell away, but Rhys simply shook his head and continued on his way. The hallway was eaten by his determined strides. He kicked open the door to his room and slammed it upon entry, making a bee-line for the fire that burned bright. There on the soft pelts of a fur, he deposited her. On the ground, he knelt, hands on his thighs as he considered her in the light. She was not without blemish as he first thought, for a generous smatter of freckles dusted her nose sat neatly in the centre of her face. Her cheeks were high and perfectly round, and a cherub mouth, slightly blue and parted while she breathed, twitched ever so often, evidence that she fought nightmares. She boasted several cuts along her face, and as he moved her hair again, it was to become captivated by the wet yellow locks that laid limp against his fingers. Satin soft and fragrant, he sank his nostrils upon the tendril and inhaled as a man starved. A fire erupted in his chest, and another member of his body strummed to life almost instantly.

Rhys ground his teeth and took his time in undressing her. Everything was soaked through and through. Her skin was ice to the touch. When he finally had her naked before the flames, his gaze shamelessly raked her body. Breasts the size of apples was tipped with raspberry colour nipples. She boasted a little belly that quivered as she trembled from the cold and a dark mole was nestled upon her right pelvic bone. A small waist flared to wide hips then tapered to long, shapely legs that were also bruised. At the juncture of her thighs, thick curls a shade darker than the hair on her head curled. Her knees were cut, and her forearm, when he pulled the sleeves of her dress away, was marked by a brutal bite. There was no mistaking the canine puncture wounds there.

A threatening snarl reverberated in his chest, and anger made his eyes burn. She whimpered a helpless, pathetic sound that forced him to strip every last piece of clothing from his body and stretch out next to her. A thick fur was spread over them, and he shifted as close as possible to the fire without the risk of getting burnt. There, he held her, familiarizing himself with her scent and the feel of her naked body that fitted like a puzzle against his harder frame. He smelled her hair and traced the outline of her face with his rough fingers, and when the temptation of her lips became too much, did the unthinkable and kissed them tenderly. Everything about her was perfect. It was also apparent she was in trouble. He would warm her tonight and every other night for the rest of her life. He would keep her safe, no matter what her foe. After so very long, he had finally found his mate.

Chapter Two

A furnace of heat penetrated her flesh and her pores sucked it up greedily. She tried to open her eyes but the comfort of the bed and the hard warmth that held her secure encouraged her to want to slip in the slumber of unconsciousness. She never again wanted to awaken. If this was what death felt like, she should have welcomed it long ago.

She buried her nose in the warmth beside her, revelling in the scent of freshly cut grass, for it reminded her of the hills in the summer and the little creek that trickled behind her mother’s cottage in the mountains. She clung to that familiar scent. It meant that she was safe. Brenna would have stayed there for a long time had it not been for the uncomfortable, hard object that pressed into her hip. She frowned and shifted – and felt her body ache so much so that she winced. The agony shocked her out of her lethargic sleep. Blinded, she blinked, aware of the fire that near scorched her skin – and the hard length that enveloped her. Eyes wide, she spied the arm that was locked around her midriff.

A well-muscled arm it was too, dusted with dark hair from wrist to elbow. With body held as stiff as a board, she tried to turn her neck to see who held her captive and scuttled out of the fur the moment he relaxed his hold to allow her to escape. On shaking feet she faced her captor, aware of every nuance of agony but too stunned by the sight of him. He was darker than the men she was accustomed to, and though he did not boast their height, there was no mistaking the bulk of his massive shoulders and the whipcord muscles there. He allowed her assessment of him shamelessly, meeting her eyes with a small smile that was meant to soothe and comfort. Her eyes dropped to his chest matted with dark hair, and the rock hard stomach that bore many scars. The fur thankfully covered his lower half, but there was no mistaking the look in his eyes when his gaze travelled down the length of her body. Only then did she realize that she too was nude. A heated blush turned her body crimson. She shamefully covered her breasts and the curls between her thighs. Her eyes darted around the large room, seeking a covering of some kind. He rose, unconcerned that she should see him in all his glory, and offered the fur with a tenderness she was unaccustomed to.

He spoke words she did not understand. His voice was deep and husky and grated along the nerve endings of her skin, agitating her, making her wonder if his touch would do the same. He draped the fur around her shoulders and pulled it together so that her entire form was shielded from the chill and his view, and went about the business of donning his clothes. Every movement and effort was done languidly. He took his time, ensuring that each seam and crease of his tunic and breeches were faultless and that the straps of the sheath that held the weapons were tight and secured. He washed his face and rinsed his mouth, and only when he dried his hands did he once again turn to give her his full attention.

Where am I? Who are you? she croaked. Goddess, it hurt to speak.

Was her virgin barrier breached? She felt sore, yes, but not in the way she had heard it said from the elder women of her village. There must have been panic in her tone, for he cocked his head and waited, studying her the way one would an unusual thing. Ever so slowly he advanced. Brenna stepped back and stumbled upon a woven rug, righted herself, and found her back pressed against a table. He did not stop his advance, and only when he was a hairs-breath away did he pause to finger her hair. Brenna craned her neck back as far as possible. What made this man, this stranger feel as though he had a right to touch her? Granted that she woke up naked in his bed, but she did not recall having gotten there. Nothing was threatening about him, nothing violent. Still, she was wary, for he towered above her, and although he moved with grace, there was no doubt a dangerous edge that spoke volumes his words could not. Slowly he traced the cuts on her face until his attention was drawn to her aching arm. The frown that twisted his forehead was pronounced. She considered the teeth marks upon her flesh and the memories assailed her all at once.

Eyes wide, she lost all feeling in her feet. He was there, offering his strength as he swept her to his chest and settled her on the nearest chair. A warm mug of cider was offered and she drank greedily. He asked a question and she shook her head. She could not understand his words. He touched his fist to his chest and grinned boyishly.

Rhys.

She met his eyes and clutched the fur tighter still before mimicking his movements. Brenna.

His eyes fell to her lips and stayed there for a long time. Brenna, he repeated, testing it upon his tongue. After a moment he stood and turned to the door, and met her eyes one last time before he exited. Brenna. She frowned, and when he motioned for her to stay, she nodded quickly. He inclined his head in